


Your Secret Admirer

by OhBelieveYouMe



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Chilton's a Creep, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love from afar, Office Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: Per postHEREby@xemopeachxre:Frederick being in love with you from afar.





	

Was this _creepy_?

Frederick thought it might be, but then again, all things considered: it wasn't really the creepiest thing that could happen in the Hospital...

Yet still, he wouldn't put his name on it. Not on the ribbon that he had tied around the stem, not on the little post-it note he had noticed on your desk, not in an email to explain the slight oddity.

Oh no; Frederick wouldn't reveal how he noticed the bracelet you wore every day when you handed him the abundance of files you had been diligently working on, nor would he explain how much he loved the floral scent of your perfume when it wafted his way. That would have been _creepy_ \- to relay how he thought of you every time he ever saw the common little flower that matched the charms dangling from that gold chain dangling from your wrist. No, it would be unprofessional for him to describe how he had passed the same little flower shop he walked by every day and noticed a bundle of the familiar ivory petals surrounding the bright, sunshine center. 

He also wouldn’t tell you how it lit up his morning, much like you had a way of lighting up his dark little hospital.

Dear Lord No- he would never imagine letting you know how he had purposefully rushed the rest of the way to work, skipped getting the coffee he enjoyed every morning, just to beat you to the office.

And no way in Hell would Frederick ever tell you that he was the one who put the daisy on your desk.

But he would, indeed, watch from the solitary solace of his office as you put your purse down and cocked your head curiously at the sight of the prettiest flower from the bunch ( _you deserved the best, after all_ ). He'd chew on the end of his pen in anticipation when you so delicately plucked it up from atop your files and ran your fingertips over the fragile petals. Oh, and how he'd _sigh_ when you gingerly brought the little flower to your chest and smiled despite no one else being in the room.

You wandered out of view, oddly enough, and Frederick nosily went to clicking around to other security cameras- trying to decipher where you had ran off to. First, he thought he saw you wander through the little break room, but had to keep trying in order to follow. He realized he'd have to wait, however, when he just managed to catch the back of your head and the ladies' room door shut behind you.

Why would you take the flower with you to the bathroom?

He pondered this for ( _what felt like_ ) awhile- did you not _actually_ like it? Were you going to throw it away? Was there a different flower you'd have preferred? Roses were typically better for flattery, he pressed his pen into his cheek while trying to recall the rules for rose colors; Red for romance, Yellow for friendship, Pink for gratitude. What about white ones, were those for funerals? Just when he went to open a Google window, he caught sight of you bolting from the door you had just disappeared in.

Held gracefully in both hands was a little plastic cup, which had been filled with water while you were in the restroom. Lovingly, you sat the impromptu vase atop your desk, methodically scooting it into view while sitting in your chair.

You did like it. You _really_ , actually **liked** it.  
Frederick actually managed to smile; maybe he should get you more. What if he did get you roses too, what if he told you it was him and you ( _dare he even consider the fantasy_ ) _**thanked him**_ for it, **spoke** to him maybe just a little sweetly- maybe even used his first name instead of your always-so-polite song he looked forward to daily; ' _Dr. Chilton_ '?

A knock on his door interrupted his reverie, and he slammed his laptop shut so quickly it even made him jump. Damned interruptions...

* * *

 

> _Sometimes those microphones picked up more than he was looking for._

"I wish we got real coffee around here," one of the male orderlies mused in a huff while taking a much needed break. "We always get this cheap shit, as if a big-shot-author-doctor couldn't afford to get us an actual cup of joe."

> _Frederick groaned; he should be actually getting work done, and he really didn't care what the Hell that guy thought of the coffee he didn't even personally choose._
> 
> _But, you were on break too. And he was still being **creepy**._

"Sometimes I just crave somethin' sweet, and sugar just won't always do," your complaints, however, definitely had his attention. "You know, they have those Gingerbread Lattes at Starbucks now," you spoke of it as if the beverage was the holy grail of existence, you even made a crude ( _and obviously, purposefully obnoxious_ ) moan while rolling your eyes in the back of your head and plopping down into the seat alongside him. "They're the Big-O, I'm telling you..."

> _Frederick would never admit it, but the immodest (and theatrical) way you pined over this latte brought a blush to his cheeks, and convinced him to jot down a little note for himself on a post-it; "Gingerbread Latte"._

"Girl, if you're callin' some coffee the Big-O, you need to get out a lil' more." Your companion bumped shoulders with you and chuckled. "I graciously volunteer."

> _Who was this guy?_

You fluttered your fingers his way, dismissing the taunt. "Yea, yea, whatever Tony- when are you gonna admit you left that daisy for me?"

> _Suddenly, Frederick really hated that stupid boy._

However, Tony simply shrugged his shoulders, and leaned in closer; "Honey, if I was gonna get you flowers, I'd have gotten you a bouquet of roses- not a damn daisy."

> _For just a moment, Frederick thought he could hear his own heart fall in his chest. Who was this guy, again? He opened a new window on his laptop to try and search for him in his employee directory. Tony, Tony, Tony..._
> 
> _His search was only interrupted when he noticed your fallen simper, and how you went to drawing little invisible doodles on the top of the table._

"I quite like daisies," you explained simply before standing up from the table you were sharing with your flirtatious coworker. "I'm going to get back to work," you added softly, as if the words had hurt you beyond his denying having left that flower.

> _Frederick watched forlornly as you sauntered dreamily back to your desk, spinning the stirrer in your coffee cup repetitiously and staring down at your hot drink. He clicked through the cameras, no longer very interested in Tony at all, and saw you sit back down in front of your computer. Even with everyone else buzzing around the office, you very silently rocked forward, and again ran your fingertips along the precious petals._
> 
> _It hurt his heart, the way you didn't smile, the bewildered look on your face as you examined his little gift. Very slowly, he closed his laptop, and went back to working on paperwork; after slipping his post-it note into his briefcase._

* * *

 

The next morning, you were late, and mentally preparing to explain to Dr. Chilton why exactly you hadn't made it in on time. It was a convoluted mess of a crummy morning; nothing was going right, and you were nearly in tears when you made it through the hospital's front doors.

All of your silent recitations fell to the wayside, however, when you noticed something on your desk. A large coffee cup, from Starbucks, sat in the middle of your work station. Curiously, you opened the lid, and peered inside cautiously- as if you were afraid something would jump out at you if you weren't careful.

The scent of gingerbread immediately and pleasantly assaulted your sense.  
You sighed, loudly, and took your seat with no worries as to your brief absence- you had _good_ coffee. You would enjoy it.

Now much more calm, and unconcerned with your bad start to the day now that something sweet has come along to perk you up- you finally sent an email to your supervisor, hoping to keep the conversation short and sensible.

**"Dr. Chilton- I apologize profusely for my tardiness, this morning proved to be rather vexing. I'll be available to make up for the lost time this evening, if you'd desire. Sincerely yours, ( _Your Name_ )."**

At that, you settled back in your chair once more, and took a generous sip of your drink. Dramatically, you leaned your head back until your skull hit the top of your chair, and you smiled towards the ceiling at the simplistic joy of a Gingerbread favored Latte. Perhaps you weren't sure where it came from- but you were certainly thankful, anyway.

A few moments of rest, and then the ding alerting you of an incoming email interrupted your peace;

**"( _Your Name_ )- Your attendance is quite impeccable, don’t fret over a single morning. No need to stay late-" **  
( _he had written perhaps ten or so other lines before settling on this alternate ending, but you wouldn't have known all the thought put into his simple acceptance of your lateness._ )   
**"Keep up the good work. Sincerely, Dr. Chilton."**

* * *

 

A couple days later, the morning after a particularly difficult late night at the office; there was another mysterious Gingerbread Latte on your desk. You picked it up, spun the cup around, and squint in subtle suspicion. The last time this happened, it was a normal latte- and you could definitely use one to wake up with before running your early reports...

**~**

The next morning, there was another daisy; you proudly plopped it into the transparent cup your now-wilting one from earlier was still in. Though you were curious as to who decided you deserved such pretty decorations, it was a welcomed distraction to the otherwise dark Hospital... So instead of questioning anything, you went to get fresh water, and very carefully balanced the miniature bouquet from the restroom to your desk. Most of the way, you had to bob your shoulders towards nosy coworkers who asked where the daisies came from...

It was an easy inquiry to ignore: seeing as how you honestly didn’t know.

**~**

A week without any new surprises, long after both of your little daisies finally wilted, you noticed a friend standing near your desk. “What do you need?” You asked helpfully, assuming she’d be looking for some paperwork or a file you had been working in.

Your assumption fell flat, however, once you moved past her to place your purse in your chair. No, she didn’t need anything from you- but sat beside your keyboard were not only three brand new daisies to replace your dead ones; there was a very small vase, pink carnival glass, properly housing your new flowers. 

Your coworker watched as your jaw fell, and her own eyes went wide when she noted how you didn’t seem to know where they came from. “Someone really likes you,” she taunted teasingly while wriggling her brows and leaving you to appreciate your present. 

Once you overcame your trance which resulted in a few moments of sweet adulation, you finally slid the vase where you had been keeping your old plastic cup, so you could gaze at it whenever you needed a pick-me-up to keep your work day from getting too dreary...

**~**

After a month or so of little surprises, it almost became commonplace. It was starting to manifest into a joke among your colleagues; _someone has a secret admirer_. Your daisies were never dead for long- they’d be replaced at least once or twice a week; sometimes just one, other times there’d be three. Oddly enough, your gifted Gingerbread Lattes had quite the way of being there when you needed them most: whether they were a token of admiration or not became utterly unimportant- you were just always happy when they were there.

Honestly, you had almost stopped being curious as to who was leaving them. You didn’t give the coffee cups a second thought before bringing them to your lips, you no longer doubted the sincerity behind your pretty flowers before shamelessly appreciating the ivory petals. 

That is- until one day, when you sat the coffee cup down _just_ right.  
This cup was _different_ than all the others, and when you noticed why it was different, you thought the air was sapped from the large room. All the chatter that you had grown accustomed to faded away to a buzz- none of it mattered and you were completely unconcerned with your paperwork upon the dawning of your grand discovery.

Quickly, a look at the clock, just before you stood fast enough to nearly topple over your chair.

If you were going to act on this, you had to move **now**.  
And you certainly intended on acting.

* * *

 

Frederick waltzed grandiosely into his office after having been gone for most of the day- dealing with the headaches brought about by court and a new patient. His door shut behind him, and he very subtly loosened his tie: a chance to breathe before he had to go address the staff of their most recent addition.

However, his concentration and considerations were dismissed when he noticed something _odd_ on his desk.

There, sat on top of the files you brought to him almost daily, was a coffee cup. A Starbucks coffee cup, to be precise; and though it wasn't filled with the expected beverage- it did indeed hold water...

& a _daisy_.

He walked over hesitantly, thinking maybe he must be dreaming- did anything else that happened today suggest the same? He had been oddly lucky with the taxi, Frederick considered while bending at the waist to closer examine the little surprise. Maybe this was all a figment of his imagination, there was no way that somehow the silly gifts he had intended for _you_ would make their way back to his desk.

That is, until he squint to take a closer look at the messy, quickly-written writing on the side of the cup. The first part wasn't any stranger than any other day- " _GNGR BRD LATTE_ ", they wrote the order every time he purchased a cup of coffee from there...

But- usually, Frederick bought two cups of coffee. Because of this, he made a very intentional point of reciting his order first, so they'd print out his name on his own drink and just write the order on the second.

This morning, in his rush, he had only ordered one: **yours**.

Also this morning, in his adamant scurrying to play delivery boy _and_ not be late for the meeting- he hadn't examined the cup.

Which led to finally, this morning, in his firm hurry to get out of the office, he hadn't realized they had put _his_ name on the goddamned cup.

That is- until he saw **his own name** glaring back at him on the Starbucks cup.

Wow, was it hot in here? Frederick splayed his fingertips on top of the smooth wood of his desk, trying to hold himself up as his heart beat so quickly he was sure it'd escape from his chest. They put his _name_ on the fucking _cup_ that he had left on _your desk_. That damned cup was now on _his_ desk, along with the beautiful little daisy that he had recently left for _you_. 

His breathing became labored as his nerves set in- you must think he is the absolute _creepiest_ person in the entire universe; Frederick took a seat in the leather chair typically reserved for guests, and covered his face with his hands. A red-hot blush rose to his cheeks, and his leg began to bounce as he tried to consider how he'd fix this: would he need to conjure a worthy denial, apologies, promise he'd never bother you or your desk again?

While drowning in his self-deprecation and wallowing in his fears, he hadn't heard the door to his office open. Also, he was much too distracted to listen for footsteps, which was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when you very gingerly went to tap at his shoulder with two timid fingertips.

Frederick leaped out of his seat, spun around, and stumbled hopelessly backwards until he managed to catch himself with palms landed on the beveled edge of his desk. Those green eyes of his went wide, the color fell from his face: it looked as if he were staring at a ghost instead of how your lips plumped to a pout, or how your eyebrows bounced in equal surprise.

Silence. Awkward, terrifying silence, though he did try to straighten his stance a bit. There were no words he could muster, not at that very moment, and he actually physically flinched when you took a shy step closer towards him.

"Dr. Chilton-" At the sound of your voice, he shivered, and you swallowed hard before continuing. "Perhaps sometime, you could let me buy you a cup of coffee?" You motioned vaguely behind him, and he gladly took the opportunity to re-visit the collection of items you had left for him. "I know you're so very busy," you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and silently prayed for bravado, "but you've indulged me so much already; I'd like to return the..." nervously, your stare fell, so you hadn't noticed how he slowly tuned back to face you, " _sentiment_."

He inhaled sharply, and finally stiffened his spine. "That-" Frederick stammered, then shook his head while forcing some composure back into the conversation and his spirit. "That, uh: that would be lovely... thank you."

You smiled broadly, beaming even, and Frederick realized right then and there exactly how much you resembled those daisies you loved so dearly. Simple, sweet, and able to light up any dreary heart with your resemblance to the sunbeams that danced in through his windows; just like the bright center of the flowers he left for you. "Just let me know," you added quickly, then hurriedly turned so you could saunter out of the room you hadn't been specifically welcomed into.

Frederick watched silently, still dazed, and unable to muster any further phrases- until it dawned on him as you almost disappeared behind his door. "Wait!" The shout made you jump, and he was very eagerly working to retrieve the little cup and daisy that you had placed so thoughtfully a few hours before. While holding his breath, he crossed the room, and met you under the door frame. "This, uh," he held it out, bashfully blushing while lifting the gift so it stood between the two of you; "This was for you..."

Elegantly, you obliged him, and took back the coffee cup and flower- managing to just briefly graze his thumb with the pad of yours; "Thank you, Dr. Chi-"

"Frederick," he suggested in a very mere whisper; "Frederick's fine."

You bit your lip again, and he was convinced his knees would give out on him right there in the threshold to his office- "Thank you, Frederick..."

He wasn't sure what was louder; the beat of his heart, or the click of your heels while you meandered off. After closing the door, he exhaled, finally able to breathe now that he managed to find himself alone. Absently, Frederick collapsed into his desk chair and opened his laptop, trying not to be too terribly preoccupied wondering what he'd possibly have to talk about when you two went for coffee.

It wasn't a date, he thought to himself while propping an elbow atop his desk and holding his head up against his fist. No, he shouldn't get his hopes up- it's _not_ a date; he reminded himself again while pressing his cheek firm against the knuckle of his thumb, precisely where you had touched it moments ago. Definitely not a _date_ , he repeated in his mind while not even noticing how he nuzzled against his own hand.

But, _what if it was..._?


End file.
